Lyrics Roots Manuva

Roots Manuva

Wisdom Fall

And without any shame, for we are the unashamed

Lord Gosh presents to you: the audio blanket

Man U-V-A, with some holy hurray

Deft words display, write rhymes in clay

So if nobody don't feel my z-ray

I'll cool in my corner, make myself a tre

Seek and find a way to get my soul some pay

Put some clothes on my back, put some food in my belly

Drink some Irish musk and go roll in the hay

Wisdom fall, slap my headpiece

I'm packing ammunition for who?

Papa Time bites at the short-and-curlies

Onna lift grin cause she gwan too whirly

She buff bad but she vex me nuff

Make me lose myself, turn drinking cruff

I'm on some fix-up, singing some progress tune

Check, checka me check it, me checking myself

Rickety raps we write upon scraps of A4

Jack shite to do, beheld my mind tour

For to visualise is to be, to be is to gwan with tings

As your plane grow wings, we gets fly

As I bust a wheelie in the sky

We don't follow, follow? Code-red leader

Paid off the third term, foot gets stampede

Homeward bound, we pulling telescope focus

Hanging in the outback on tough concrete

Inter-outer galactic transportation

Zoot my bone and I reflect at this eighth floor

Raw, gyro-cheque poor

Roadside distraction to the tune of galore

Kerotene gets refueled, detox for system

Him a catch a frisking

Discotheque off your weakheart hex

My level stay next to none of the run-of-the-mill

Ex amount pride now